


Birds of a Feather

by tucuxia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Powers, Angel Wings, Angelic Grace, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14564139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucuxia/pseuds/tucuxia
Summary: Cas wants a pet. If he can't have a cat, he will find something else.





	1. Exotic Pets

Castiel was hiding something.

Dean had been watching the dark-haired angel ever since the last time he brought up his longing for a cat. Castiel had been reading some book he found that showed him all of the different cat breeds, that longing look in his bright blue eyes. He seemed to understand that Dean’s allergies would preclude the acquisition of a feline, but his determination was undeterred.

“Cas, have you ever even spent time with a cat? How do you know you would even like one?”

The angel shrugged, poking his scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork. He didn’t need to eat, but he had become so accustomed to the act that he always joined the hunters for meals when he could. “I know I can’t have a cat. I understand that you would become ill if we obtained a feline companion, Dean,” he replied sullenly. He pushed away from the table and stalked toward the library, his signature trench coat billowing behind him.

“Cas?”

Dean shook his head and returned to his breakfast, waving his head dismissively at their companion. “Let him go read his cat book again, Sam.”

The younger brother stood from the table and collected his plate and Castiel’s abandoned eggs. He never fed the angel much, since he was prone to leave his meals unfinished and Sam hated to waste food. “Your allergies aside, Dean, that boy needs a pet.”

Those words rang in Dean’s head again over the next few weeks as Castiel came home from a routine trip to the nearest supermarket with a bright light in his too-blue eyes and a new spring in his step. The hunters surreptitiously checked his bedroom, but the angel had not obtained a cat, so they left him alone. When Castiel unexpectedly asked for a tv in his bedroom, the hunters found one for him, even helping him with his own cable hookup so he could watch his animal shows. For a while, the television cats seemed to keep him happy, and Dean forgot about his odd behavior.

For a few days, the brothers were gone on a hunt in Oklahoma, leaving Castiel alone in the bunker. He pulled out his cat breeds book and slipped a flyer free, staring at the picture of a spotted cat on the front, framed by a snake, a spiny lizard, two colorful birds, and something labeled a _sugar glider_. Castiel was not familiar with all of his father’s creations, but it looked cute enough. Reading the address on the flyer, he headed for his truck.

The city on the flyer was not far away, only a few hours’ drive, and he reached the fairgrounds before noon. Thankfully, the brothers had left on the first day of the exotic animal and bird show, otherwise Castiel would have had to fabricate an excuse to be gone for the whole day.

He entered the large, well-lit exposition center lobby, moving to stand in queue with the dozen or so humans ahead of him. Dean and Sam had taught him that people usually had to stand in lines before entering fun places and that he was not allowed to “cut” in front of them. When he reached the front of the line, a bright little woman with short blonde hair asked him how he would like to pay. Having learned from his past solo trips and his time as a human, he was very bad at remembering to carry cash and often counted it incorrectly, so Dean had given him one of the credit cards he had obtained through less-than-legal means. He handed the dark blue card to the blonde woman who swiped it and handed him a little yellow ticket. Following the other people, Castiel entered through the double doors to his left, handing over his ticket and receiving a bird-shaped stamp on the back of his hand in return.

The building was filled with a cacophony of noises that Castiel had never encountered before, his bright blue eyes scanning the room in wonder. There were so many animals and so many tables covered in colorful animal toys and food. He was standing next to a table displaying dozens of stands made from wood and white pipes held together with ropes and tinkling with bells of all sizes. The tags said that they were made for birds, so Castiel walked deeper into the cavernous hall, headed for the cats he could clearly hear a few tables down.

There was a small crowd around the cages holding the spotted kittens, but one of the women behind the cloth-covered table noticed the blue-eyed man leaning forward and watching the animals eagerly. “Do you want to hold one?”

Castiel nodded enthusiastically as the woman passed him a tiny white kitten covered in dark grey rosettes that immediately sunk its tiny claws into the angel’s shirt. He held it close, smiling as it rubbed against his scruffy chin. “What kind of cat is this? I did not see it in my book.”

“These are Bengals,” the woman answered helpfully, tucking a card into the pocket of Castiel’s trench coat while his hands were occupied. “We have a number of colors available, including silver like this boy, snow, and marble, as well as some of the newer colors like blue, cinnamon, and red. We had some black kittens at the last fair but we don’t have any at the moment.”

“He’s so beautiful,” Castiel murmured, his brows furrowing sadly. “My . . . friend is allergic to cats so I do not think I can have one. I do not want him to become sick.”

The woman smiled sympathetically. “My husband is allergic, too, so I visit these guys at my parents’ house whenever I can.”

“I just think that a pet would make the bunker more home-like.”

The woman, to her credit, didn’t even tilt her head curiously at the word “bunker”, though she did accept the kitten Castiel passed back to her. “Your friend that you live with, is he allergic to other animals?”

“I-I don’t think so. He hasn’t mentioned anything other than cats.”

“Well my husband got a parrot, and we both love her.”

Castiel tilted his head curiously. “I have never owned a parrot. What are they like?”

“Like toddlers on crack with can-openers!” The woman giggled at the explanation, indicating that she was making a joke. The angel narrowed stared at her silently until she smiled and explained herself, having learned that he did not need to tell people when he did not understand their references since they would eventually elaborate. “They’re super adorable, but they are very stubborn and they have the most amazing ability to get into anything. They can chew through things that would surprise you, and they are much smarter than most other animals we keep as pets. Our parrot likes to chew on the rubber mouthpieces on water bottles, the buttons on remotes, and computer cables. She also will do anything to get to food or the place she thinks we are hiding food. We had to stop drinking canned sodas because she would try to climb on them to drink from them and always knocked them over. She also repeats some interesting things, but overall she’s a sweet little fluff ball.”

Castiel was admittedly intrigued. “Where can I find these parrots?”

“Over in the back corner, past the snake breeders.” She leaned forward, the kitten still tucked safely against her chest and pointed helpfully. “Talk to the breeders and they can tell you what kind of parrots would be best for your lifestyle.”

“Thank you,” the angel replied, heading off deeper into the building.

He found the parrot tables easily enough, after a row of tables with the tiny but surprisingly loud finches, and the first woman he reached seemed to have six different types of birds available. He decided that she would be the best person to help educate him. “Excuse me, I am interested in obtaining a parrot. The lady with the Bengal cats said that you can help me.”

“Sure I can,” the middle-aged redheaded woman replied, her southern drawl incredibly strong. Judging from the information on the card that she handed Castiel, she was from Texas. “I breed six type of parrots: Scarlet Macaws, Umbrella Cockatoos, Congo African Greys, Caiques, Indian Ringnecks, and Quakers.” She pointed at each collection of clear boxes as she spoke, explaining that the enclosure kept the little ones warm in the chill of the large building. Castiel touched the side of a box and found that it was, indeed, warm, probably from the red lights over each box. “How much experience do you have with birds?”

“I have never owned an animal,” he replied, tilting his head at the huge nearly-naked babies cuddled with the larger red-feathered macaws that she had pointed at. “Why do those ones not have the same feathers?” Their huge heads and pale beaks rested awkwardly on their backs while their more feathered companions picked carefully at their red feathers.

“They’re younger. I don’t sell unweaned babies unless you’re very experienced, so you would be better off with babies that are already six months old or so. Macaws, Cockatoos, and Greys are a bit more work and tend to have more emotional problems for inexperienced owners, but Caiques, Ringnecks, and Quakers would be options for you.”

She gestured toward the cages holding older versions of each of those three birds, reaching for a small blue fluffy bird with a grey chest first and handing it to Castiel. He marveled as the small bird gripped his finger with its small feet and tiny claws, fluffing its feathers up and turning dark grey eyes in his direction. “This is a female Quaker parrot. Green is the normal color, but these blues are the most common mutation. They can learn to speak and tend to be very intelligent, figuring their way out of cages and into places they aren’t supposed to be.”

Castiel touched one finger to the bird’s head and watched in wonder as she fluffed her feathers up even more, leaning into the finger as the angel began to caress her. Castiel’s smallest wing feathers were soft, but nothing in comparison to the tiny creature sitting on his finger. She leaned her head down and began to nibble on the edge of his sleeve, making a gruff _brrrh, brrrh, brrht_ noise. The woman carefully lifted the young Quaker and placed her back on the perch with her green siblings, handing Castiel a grey Ringneck in her place. The bird was mostly a light grey color with a greenish tint on its wing feathers and head, darker grey primary feathers, a dark orange beak, and a faint black line under its chin and around its neck. Its intense eyes were ringed with a thin line of bright orange skin and they were bright white with black pupils.

“This is a male Ringneck, though I do have some females here. He was an unexpected grey, but the color isn’t very clean. Mostly the Ringnecks are green, blue, or yellow like the Quakers. They are very good talkers for their size, and when they get excited their pupils narrow and all you can see is that white.” The bird looked up at Castiel and clucked, his eyes turning white just as the woman had mentioned. He reached to touch the bird’s head, very gently rubbing his soft feathers as he opened his wings slightly. “They’re a little more excitable than Quakers, but their voices are absolutely adorable. His beak will get darker orange as he grows and the ring will get a bit thicker with a pale white or yellow secondary ring around the back.” She pointed to a picture near the Ringneck cage showing a full-grown green male, a prominent black line of feathers encircling his neck with a faint second line of pink feathers around the back.

She took the Ringneck away, clearly enjoying the chance to teach this quiet man about her birds. The third bird she handed him was noticeably larger than the other two, with much larger black feet in relation to his body size and a short, stumpy tail. His head was mostly orange with a black cap, his chest was white, his legs were orange, and his wings were green. He turned one eye toward Castiel, the red whirling before he lowered his black beak to the angel’s hand and started rubbing vigorously against it. “That’s called surfing. Caiques are known for it, but Quakers will do it to. He’s most likely to do it against soft fabrics, but you have to be careful because they tend to start chewing whatever they were surfing on after a minute or so. Caiques also like to lay on their back and play with their feet, which is pretty unusual for parrots. They act more like puppies than birds, and they whistle and trill but they never learn words. They also like to jump around when they are excited.”

“I like them all,” Castiel murmured, watching as the Caique grabbed the finger he offered with one foot, holding on and staring at the angel. “How do I care for a bird?”

“Well, you’ll want to get a cage, some bedding, some perches, some toys, and some food. I would recommend training them to water bottles as quickly as possible since birds like to dip their food in their water and try to bathe in it. Some birds like little snuggle tunnels or sacks to sleep in and some don’t. For food, these guys were all weaned onto a pellet diet with fruits, veggies, and nuts as needed, though you’ll have to experiment to see what yours likes. Seed-based diets are very bad for parrots and don’t reflect what they would eat in the wild, though you can give them some millet—dry or sprouted—from time to time.”

“Where do I obtain these items?” He put the Caique back onto his perch, a tiny smile tugging at the side of his mouth as the chunky bird hopped back toward him insistently.

“Over there in the center of the room you’ll find the cages, to the left you’ll see toys and the various types of bedding, and further back on the right will be perches and sleepy sacks. Did you get one of the flyers for the expo?”

He nodded and pulled it out of his pocket, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles before holding it out to the woman. The Caique standing on the table next to him reached up to grab a bite as the paper passed over him.

“Ok, here look. There’s a coupon from the company that sells the cages. They sell food, too, as well as treats like dried fruit and nuts. That guy who sells toys, he makes them all himself, and I know he’s running a special today where you get a free toy for every two that you buy. All three of these birds take the same type of cage, basically, and you want to find one with a spring-based latch to make it harder for them to escape. If you tell me which bird you want, I’ll get you a booklet that outlines the supplies you need to buy today to get you started.”

Castiel nodded eagerly and looked down at the three young birds he had held. Which one should he choose?

* * *

Castiel was definitely hiding something.

Sam and Dean had come home from their hunt, exhausted and starving, to find that their resident angel had prepared them food. Well, prepared was the wrong word; he had ordered them a large variety of Chinese dishes in those tinfoil cartons, sesame chicken sitting beside beef lo mein, egg drop soup, and steamed dumplings. The grateful hunters tore into the food, decimating the meal while Cas watched happily. He took an egg roll, some soup, and some chicken fried rice for himself and joined them at the table.

“Cas, not that I’m complaining,” Dean began between bites of his chicken, “but you never get food for us. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Dean,” Cas replied, narrowing his eyes as the chopsticks he was trying to learn how to use. Sam had insisted that Chinese and Japanese food had to be eaten with the proper utensils, so he was trying his best. “Uh, I did want to ask for a new card, though. I ran out of money on the last one you gave me.”

Sam, who tracked their ill-gotten finances more closely than Dean, tilted his head at the dark-haired angel. “Cas, how did you max out that card so fast? I thought Dean just gave you that one a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, but you also told me to ‘make myself at home’ in my bedroom, so I purchased some things that I could not find in storage here.” That was actually the truth, since the mattresses in the store room were old and uncomfortable, the sheets that the boys had not already used were threadbare, and there was a distinct lack of extra tables and shelving in the bunker. Dean, accepting that explanation and happy that his friend was finally “nesting”, reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, glancing through the credit cards before finding one that he hadn’t remembered using yet. It was from some bank in New England.

“This one should hold you for a while. I think it has a couple thousand on it.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas slipped the card into his trench coat pocket and returned to his meal.

A few days later, Cas went to the supermarket and bought a large variety of fruits and veggies. Sam watched him with a raised eyebrow as he struggled to find room for everything in the large fridge. For once, it was fairly well-stocked. “Cas, you don’t eat fruits or veggies. Actually, I’m pretty sure you think ketchup is a fruit.”

“Dean says that ketchup is a fruit, and it tastes better than tomatoes,” Cas retorted, pushing a pack of beer deeper into the fridge in the hope of making space for his broccoli. “I am trying new things to see if I can find some produce that I _do_ enjoy.”

Sam shook his head and left the kitchen, wondering what had gotten into the angel.

That night, Cas filled his plate with samples: green grapes, slices from three different types of apple, an orange, raspberries, a few chunks of watermelon (thankfully he had bought it pre-sliced and Sam didn’t have to worry about cleaning up the inevitable aftermath of Cas cutting a watermelon), strawberries, blueberries, a banana, a peach, and a pear. He walked past the hunters on the couch in front of their new television, tilting his head at the popcorn in the bowl between them. “Gonna join us, Cas?”

“No, I have research to do.” He did reach down and grab a handful of popcorn, adding it to his plate before heading for his room.

Dean turned to Sam at the angel’s casual dismissal, unused to Cas not being interested in movie night. “He said he wants to try some new fruits and see what he likes,” Sam explained. “I guess he thinks that he has to try them in private?”

Dean rolled his eyes at the explanation and reached for his beer, his other hand heading for the popcorn. “Whatever, start the movie.”

Cas emerged a few hours later with the remains from his experiment. He had apparently liked the pink apple the best, the green apple somewhat, and the red not at all. The orange was gone, leaving just the rind, as were all of the berries and watermelon. The grapes had been eaten, as well, but the banana, peach, and pear were barely touched. He told the boys that his experiment was a success but he would probably stick to apples, oranges, and grapes since they were the least messy. Sam, happy that someone else in the bunker would finally be eating fruit, did not complain.

Cas tried the same experiment with vegetables a couple of nights later. Sam encouraged him to try some ranch to dip them in, but he said that he would prefer to eat them raw. He claimed to like celery, carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower and consumed only those for the next week. Usually he would eat with them at the table and save some for his room later, where he would retreat and watch his animal shows. Dean noticed that the angel was spending less time with them in the main room of the bunker, but every time he passed Cas’s closed room door he could hear some nature show or another playing, most often with birds. As long as Cas was done with the cat thing, Dean figured there was no harm.

* * *

Cas followed the hunters through the supermarket on a rare “family” shopping trip. He enjoyed these peaceful excursions with the brothers, picking up various foods as they passed them and reading through the list of ingredients that he barely understood. The more ingredients the package had, the more Dean seemed to want it, but Sam tried to gear his brother toward more organic or fresh foods instead. Predictably, this frustrated the shorter hunter and he guided the trio toward the candy aisle.

Sam watched with an expression on his face that Cas had come to know as his my-brother-is-going-to-eat-himself-to-death bitchface while he helped Dean choose something incredibly sugary and unhealthy for later. He found a small red bag of Skittles and tilted his head as he noticed similar bags that were colored blue, purple, or green with images of tiny round candies on the front. He had never had these before, usually sticking with chocolate or Dean’s cakes and pies. He reached over and tugged on Dean’s sleeve, his expression curious as he pointed at the bag of Skittles. “Why are there so many types?”

Dean shrugged as he found a bag of mixed bite-sized chocolates. “People like the different flavors. Each color in each bag tastes different, so people can get the ones they want.”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. You should figure out which one is your favorite. Get one of each bag and try all of the flavors.” Dean grabbed a red, purple, blue, and green bag and dropped them in the cart, finding a darker blue bag and adding that, as well. He also tossed his candy choice in and grinned at Sam.

When they finally got back to the bunker, Cas went to the cabinet and found a pack of disposable red shot glasses, sitting at the kitchen table and opening each bag of skittles one at a time, sorting the candies by color and putting each color in its own shot glass. As soon as all twenty-five types of skittles were sorted, the hunters watched in amusement as the angel managed to stack the half-full plastic cups into five manageable towers and carried them off to his room. “You should be proud of him, Sam; he’s going about this in the most scientific way possible.”

Sam snorted and finished putting away the groceries. “He’ll probably never tell us which one he likes the best.”

Cas did, indeed, refuse to talk about his Great Skittle Experiment.

A week or so later, Cas joined the brothers for breakfast before they headed out on a hunt. He carefully peeled his orange and ate most of it, setting one section aside for later, making a tiny pile of scrambled eggs near his last piece of orange and a tiny piece of bacon. The boys no longer paid attention when the angel saved food and took it to his room, mostly just amused at the variety of foods he would walk away with. “Cas, we’ve got a job a couple hours away. You coming?”

“How long will it take?”

Dean shrugged. “Looks pretty simple, ghost or something. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two. You in?”

Cas turned his intense blue gaze on the elder hunter, sensing a hint of longing through the intense bond they shared. Dean wanted him to come. “Of course, Dean. I will accompany you.” A loud screech sounded from Cas’s room and the angel shot to his feet, grabbing his plate of food. “Apparently I left my tv on. Let me go turn it off and I will be ready to go.”

The two hunters exchanged a confused look as their friend vanished deeper into the bunker, but he emerged as promised a few minutes later, ready to depart.

The hunt was relatively quick, only taking three days, so they were back at the bunker that third night. Sam and Dean were exhausted, taking longer than usual to gather their bags and depart the Impala, but Cas was full of energy as always and bounded into the bunker ahead of them. Dean could have sworn he heard screeching when the door between the garage and the main building opened, but it was silent when he made it to the library so he ignored it.

Less than an hour later, Sam headed to bed and left Dean stretched out on the couch watching some mindless late-night show, a beer in one hand as he debated forcing himself to his feet and trudging to his room. As he lost the battle and started dozing off, he could have sworn he heard a cat meowing.

Castiel snuck silently into the library, spotting a dark figure stretched out across the largest couch, the tv showing some black-and-white show that he did not recognize. Focused on not waking the hunter, Cas carefully removed the empty beer bottle from his limp hand and placed it on the table, grabbing the remote and turning off the tv. In the silence, Dean grumbled softly and curled up around the small throw pillow that Sam had recently purchased to “brighten up the place” as he had put it. Brows furrowed, Cas noticed the slightest of shivers pass through the hunter’s form and he looked around for one of the blankets that he remembered seeing the last time he watched tv in the library. Perhaps Sam had taken them all to be washed. Thinking quickly and having nothing better to offer, Cas slipped out of his trench coat and laid it across the hunter. He smiled as Dean snuggled deeper into the heavy brown fabric, taking a deep breath before settling back into his dreams.

Dean struggled back to consciousness after a night of some incredibly intense dreams filled with bright blue eyes and blue-black feathers. He frowned and looked down as he realized that he was not in his room and he was not covered in one of his blankets. As a matter of fact, it looked like he was covered by Cas’s trench coat. The gentle scent of honey and something flowery surrounded him, and he wondered why he had never noticed the angel’s scent before.

A snort from the other side of the entertainment area snapped him to full consciousness, Sam’s hazel-green eyes taking in the hunter stretched out on the couch with a familiar brown trench coat laid over him. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and picking up the coat. He glanced at the dark tv and the empty beer bottle placed carefully on the table next to the remote, surprised that he had been so tired that he didn’t remember the angel visiting him. “I guess Cas saw me sleeping and wanted to make sure I wasn’t cold. You did take all of the blankets.”

“You spilled beer on most of them,” Sam countered. “We should go see what he looks like without the coat.” Sam’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively and Dean growled as he tossed the aforementioned article of clothing at his brother. They both watched curiously as a business card fell out of the pocket and fluttered to the floor. Dean leaned down to grab it, anger swirling in his green eyes as he noted the spotted cats on the back and the name of a nearby Bengal breeder on the front. “What the hell is this?”

“When did he meet with a cat breeder?”

Dean’s jaw clenched furiously as he stomped off toward the bedroom wing of the bunker. “He better not have brought home a damn cat!”

“Dean, wait!”

Ignoring his brother, Dean slammed open the door to Cas’s room, stopping dead at the sight that met his eyes. He wasn’t completely sure what he expected to find, but this was not it.


	2. Honeybee

Chapter 2: Honeybee

* * *

Cas, clad in his signature dark suit and blue striped tie, was laying back in his bed with three _birds_ sitting on him. One of them was a small blue bird with a long tail, one was larger and grey with an even longer tail and the third was a strange mix of green, white, orange, and black with a short green tail. The smallest one was sitting on Cas's shoulder chewing on his stubble and making a soft _brrrh brrrh brrrht_ noise, something that the angel clearly enjoyed. The grey one walked carefully down Cas's arm and settled down, one foot disappearing into its feathers as it turned one insanely white eye toward Dean, only a pinprick of black in the center, and made an almost groaning _meeeeehheh_ noise. The third and largest bird didn't notice Dean's entrance at all, holding the edge of Cas's dark suit coat in his curved black beak and pushing and rubbing his head for all he was worth.

"Hello, Dean," the angel greeted in his insanely unfair deep voice, blue eyes watching the hunter warily. Sam stopped behind his brother in the doorway, Cas's trench coat gripped tightly in one hand as he struggled to take in the scene. There were three cages in the room, clearly one for each bird, and there was a computer chair mat under each one to protect the floor. Cas's new bedside table held bags of bird treats and food, as well as a large book on parrots that looked like it had been read dozens of times already. Each cage was filled with perches and toys, and there were smaller toys and cat jingly balls on the bed within easy reach for the angel.

"Cas, did you go out and buy three birds?"

He nodded at Sam's question, as if the answer wasn't glaringly obvious. Dean slowly took another step into the room, eyeing the three birds warily as Sam followed him and draped the trench coat across the single chair in the room. Dean held up the business card he had found, confusion warring with disbelief in his eyes. Cas watched as he sensed the varied emotions rushing through his best friend as the grey bird on his arm looked Dean in the eye and called out in a high-pitched but very clear voice _"what'a'ya doin'?"_

"Holy shit it speaks!" Dean jumped back and stared at the tiny creature, his eyes wide as he tried to decide how to respond.

"He has learned a few phrases," Cas confirmed. He turned to the bird and, in his most serious voice, said, "hello, Tempest."

" _He'o Tempest,"_ the bird returned, eyes whirling back to white as he began to cluck at the angel. _"What'a'ya doin'? He'o Tempest! Good girl! Who's a good girl? Chk chkk chk trrrrllll. Step up, step up!"_

" _Step up,"_ the blue bird replied, fluffing up as she joined the conversation. _"Step up, step up, step up! Good girl. Good girrrl. Good girrrrrl. C'mere! C'mere! Step up."_

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at the scene, at the two birds talking to each other with these adorably tiny voices and nodding their heads happily as they got attention. Dean relaxed at his brother's laugh, noting that Cas's eyes lit up at the sound. He slowly sat up, dislodging the two larger birds who made similar angry noises while the blue one grabbed onto Cas's collar with her beak to avoid falling off of her chosen perch. "Cas, did you go out and buy three birds?"

"Yes, Sam. It was not my intention, however."

"Dude, you can't _accidentally_ buy three birds! They aren't kittens that you pick up off of the street; they cost quite a bit of money . . ." Dean's eyes widened as he realized when the angel had obtained his illicit pets. "Cas, is that how you maxed out your credit card?"

"Yes, they were very expensive."

"Why did you get three? Where did you get them at all? Why did you go looking for them at all? Why have you hidden them all this time?"

Cas stood up from the bed, holding two birds on one arm as he gently pushed Dean to sit down on the bed and gestured for Sam to take the chair. Carefully, he had the grey bird step onto his finger and transferred him to Dean's shoulder, the hunter leaning his head back as far as he could as he eyed the grey bird warily. The bird seemed to be watching him with the same uncertainty as he began to cluck softly.

Sam started to say something, freezing as Cas took the largest bird and laid him on his back in Sam's lap, huge black feet sticking up in the air. The largest parrot reached his head back and began to nibble on a fold in Sam's jeans, trilling happily at his new discovery, perfectly content to wiggle his feet but not flip over. Sam carefully reached forward and touched the bird's upper chest where creamy white feathers met vibrant orange, and the bird released his jeans to rub his heavy black beak on the hunter's long finger. "His name is Dax," Cas offered softly, rejoining Dean on the bed.

"Where did you get that name from?"

"I was watching the Deep Space Nine show you loaded in my Netflix list and there is a woman named Dax on it. She is something called a Trill, and his favorite noise to make is that trilling sound. I thought it was appropriate."

"He's super cute," Sam whispered, watching as the bird used his finger to flip himself over before using beak and feet to climb up his flannel-covered arm. When he reached his shoulder, Dax started to make a grinding noise with his beak as he grabbed a handful of Sam's hair with his huge foot and began to pull on it with his beak. "What is he doing right now?"

"Preening you, I believe," Cas replied, the hint of a smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. "He doesn't like my hair, but he seems to enjoy chewing on yours."

Dean opened his mouth to make a smart comment, freezing as the bird beside his cheek also opened his mouth. He made a deep, undulating trill before clucking a few times and leaning forward. Completely still, Dean watched as the bird grabbed a short beard hair and tugged on it, eyes whirling as he made a kissing noise. Dean's green eyes met Cas's blue as he silently asked what he was supposed to do with this intense little bird. Cas turned to the bird on his shoulder and kissed her beak, smiling when the blue bird made a kissing noise back. Casting his eyes toward Tempest, who was watching him a bit too intently, Dean pursed his lips and tentatively offered a soft kissing noise. Tempest leaned up and forward and made the kissing noise back, following with a soft, high-pitched _"I love you."_

Dean turned to face the angel, ignoring the bird now licking his neck. "Did you teach him to say that?"

Cas actually blushed at that, turning his head toward the bird on his right shoulder and away from the hunter sitting at his side. "No, but I say it to them all the time. He picks up on phrases that I do not plan for him to know."

Dean turned to Sam, who gave him one of those pitiful puppy dog looks, Dax surfing against his upper chest with his feet buried in the thick flannel material of his shirt. Cas just wanted some little animal to love and take care of, and he had chosen birds since Dean could not be around cats. He had to admit, the little creatures were adorable. "Cas, why did you get three birds? This isn't like the skittles where you can try all of the candy flavors and give the ones you don't like back."

Cas shook his head as the blue bird on his shoulder reached up and started chewing on his stubble. "I love them all. I wouldn't give any of them back. I got three because I thought that we could all use someone to look after. A little creature to come home to."

Dean smiled and turned back to Tempest, eyes locking with the grey bird as he reached forward and lightly bit the hunter's lip. He pulled back and Dean watched him preen his chest feathers, seemingly as comfortable on his shoulder as he had been on Cas's arm. "I mean, he is kinda cute," Dean admitted. "Why the name Tempest?"

"He reminds me of a little uncontrolled storm sometimes. He can get very angry and he has a very loud warning/anger noise. I think you heard it once. But he's very sweet most of the time, just watch him if his eyes get white and he ducks his head. I can teach you all of the bird body language that I know so you can understand them."

"Uh, does Dax have a temper?"

"No, Sam, he's just a big baby. He does protest sometimes when you take away a toy that he wants or prevent him from chewing on something, but I think he will grow out of that." Cas turned his hopeful eyes toward his tallest roommate, gesturing toward the cage nearest the door. "That's his cage if you want to keep him."

"Uh, yeah man, I do. Why did you wait so long to tell us? Wait, is this why you were sneaking fruits and vegetables?"

"Yes," Cas replied, choosing to answer the second question first. "Dax does not like any of the vegetables except carrots, but he will always steal anything that is on my plate even if he drops it later. He does like oranges, apples, and grapes, but you have to peel the grapes or he won't eat them. He was not fond of any of the other fruits I tried, throwing them rather dramatically across the room when they were offered to him. I kept a list of what each bird likes."

"I'll remember that."

"I wanted to wait until I had them trained before telling you. I didn't think you would let me keep an untrained pet."

"Trained?"

"Yes. Two of them defecate on command and Dax is almost there. He has a very obvious tell, though, so I think he will learn in time."

"You can potty-train a damn bird?" Dean's eyes flicked from the bird on his shoulder to the angel, shock in his suddenly tense posture.

"Of course. They are very intelligent. The book taught me how." He reached up to the blue parrot on his shoulder, asking her to step up before reaching out and holding her over the trash can near his bed. In his most authoritative Angel Garrison General voice, he gave her the command "hurry up," and the boys watched in amazement as the 90-gram bird obediently squatted down. As soon as she was done she stood up as far as she could and offered what was clearly the correct reply, _"good girl."_

Sam started to laugh, unable to control his response to the sight of a bird relieving herself on command, and the bird on Dean's shoulder joined in, too. Dean reached up and carefully ran a finger through Tempest's gray feathers, his green eyes softening as the Ringneck fluffed up and closed his eyes.

Sam glanced between his brother and the angel, something mischievous glinting in the depths of his green-hazel eyes. He cleared his throat and stood from the chair, carefully holding Dax in one hand as he reached for the largest cage with the other. "I'm going to take this guy into my room and get him set up so we can start bonding. Have you thought about what we should do when we go on hunts? They can't go with us."

"No, of course not. We will roll all of the cages into one room, stock them up with a few weeks' worth of food and water, and leave the television on so they have something to watch. They each have two food bowls that will hold up to a month of food, and their water bottles will last almost two weeks. I intend to go get three more bottles so that they will not have any issues while we are gone. I have planned for this, as well."

Sam nodded in approval, whispering something to his little bird as he left Cas's room, pulling the tall wheeled cage behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Dean reached out to pet the blue bird in Cas's hand. After she had proven the angel's animal-training ability, she had curled up happily in his palm against his chest. "She's adorable, too. What's her name?"

"Skittle."

The hunter chuckled, remembering the bags of Skittles that he had bought for Cas more than a week earlier. "How did she get that name?"

"She stole one from me while I was testing all of the flavors," he replied, his voice as serious as ever but the faintest smile twisting his lips. "She was sitting on my arm and carefully climbed down so I wouldn't notice her, grabbed a blue skittle, and flew across the room to her cage. Their wings are clipped so she doesn't try to fly often and she can't really get any lift, but she managed to bury herself in her sleepy tunnel and I couldn't get the candy back. She loved it so much that I gave her that name." Cas lowered his head, bright blue eyes on his new pet. "The dark blue ones from the purple bag were my favorite, too. I think they are called raspberry."

"Oh yeah? I like those, too. Is that why you picked her for your own?"

"Well, her wings are closest in color to mine and I like that."

"Really? I've never seen your wings."

Cas tilted his head in that curious way he had, his blue eyes darkening with something that Dean could not identify. "Do you want to?" The hunter couldn't know it, but angels did not show their wings to humans. Ever. It was a moral taboo nearly as great as the creation of a Nephilim, though there was no actual punishment involved other than social ostracism. Since Cas had already been thrown out of Heaven on multiple occasions, there was nothing holding him back from granting this gift to his Dean now.

Dean slowly nodded, sensing that the angel was offering him something special, helping Cas put the two birds back into their cages so they wouldn't be startled when his wings appeared out of nowhere. The raven-haired man carefully divested himself of his dark suit jacket, loosening his tie before unbuttoning his shirt. He watched in amusement as the faintest blush appeared on Dean's freckled cheeks, apparently growing stronger the more of Cas's back became visible. The angel dropped his shirt on top of his suit and coat, rolling his strong shoulders to flex the muscles that would hold his wings in his human vessel. He had not displayed them in thousands of years, and even then it was to Balthazar since he wanted to see if their feathers were the same color on Earth as they were in Heaven.

Castiel rested his hands on the bed and leaned forward, turning his back fully to Dean to ensure that he would not knock him off when his wings manifested. Eyes glowing bright blue with his grace, Cas reached into the celestial plane and _pulled_ his wings forward, forcing them into the material plane. He felt a great weight grip his shoulders and pull them down as a bright flash of angelic light announced their arrival.

Dean gasped at the expanse of blue-black feathers spread before him, Castiel holding his wings half-spread in an attempt to not destroy his room. "Cas, they're beautiful."

Cas felt himself blush at the compliment, glancing over his shoulder at the enraptured hunter. "Thank you, Dean. No one had ever said that about my wings before."

"Do you other pairs look the same?"

"Yes, all six of my wings are the same color," he answered with a touch of amusement in his voice. He pushed himself up off of the bed, flexing his wings as he tested their weight. It was hard for a human body to hold them, especially since birds had a deep keel bone where the wing muscles were anchored and his form did not. In order to compensate for the lack of proper bone structure, he had to rely on his upper body muscle mass and ensure that the wings were able to anchor correctly to his other bones.

Dean reached out and ran a finger down one of the covert feathers near the elbow joint of his left wing, tracing the barbs as they changed from the shiny midnight-blue color to a lighter azure shade at the tips. He gently wrapped his hand around the leading edge of Cas's wing, feeling the stretch of the skin under his palm as he moved down to the feathers of his alula and past his wrist to the great primary feathers. The angel helpfully folded his wing so Dean could run his hand down the length of his longest primary feather, happy to watch the human so entranced with his wings.

Cas gasped as Dean reached under his wings, running his fingers through the shorter, softer feathers and marveling at the different textures. The angel fell forward onto his hands again, eyes glowing blue as he bit back a moan, having no idea why he was suddenly having such an uncharacteristic reaction to having his wings touched. This almost felt like the passion April had evoked in him, but far deeper and stronger. Dean's hands reached the junction between his wing and his shoulder blade, his fingers gently stroking the skin where the feathered appendage joined the angel's vessel, and it was suddenly too much. The raven-haired man's wings flew open as he keened in something that was very close to his true voice, his grace flaring sharply as the lights in his room exploded.

Dean lurched back as soon as Cas jerked his wings open, staring in shock as the angel collapsed on his bed in the red glow of the bunker's emergency lights, brokenly panting in the aftereffect of whatever _that_ had been, his wings twitching as he struggled to close them again. Tempest, having clearly been paying attention from his cage, released a shrill siren noise very similar to Cas's keen, repeating it three or four times before he tired of the new word. Then, as the silence stretched on between the two men, the grey bird began to show off his version of "meow."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the noise, Cas snorting in response as he finally managed to close his great wings. Returning to a sitting position, the angel shakily waved his hand and repaired the broken lights, turning his too-bright blue eyes toward the hunter. There was still a trace of grace glowing from them, but he seemed to have his power under control, at least for the moment. Dean glanced down as the angel turned to face him, shocked at the wet stain clearly visible on his dark pants. "Cas, did you enjoy that?"

"Very much," he rasped back, still struggling to gain control of his emotions. "I didn't know that my wings were so sensitive. It doesn't feel like that when I touch them."

Dean grinned and wrapped his arms around the angel, waiting until Cas relaxed into the hug before threading his fingers through the soft feathers on the undersides of his wings again. "I guess I'll just have to keep touching them, then."

Cas cried out and tried to pull away, the sensation overwhelming him and straining his fragile control. Dean pushed him back onto the bed, hands still buried in his feathers but far enough from the shoulder joint to keep Cas from falling over the edge too soon. He had a sudden and irresistible urge to watch the angel come undone, and every ounce of doubt and hesitation he had about taking this step flew out the window. Cas thrust his hips into the air, searching for some sort of release from the sensations pulsing from his wings, but he clearly had no idea what his body was demanding.

Dean leaned forward and trapped Cas under his body, one arm holding him off the bed while the other stayed tangled in the angel's feathers. He placed his legs on either side of Cas's, grinning as the angel arched up again, azure eyes opening in shock as he ground against Dean, the hunter offering a small moan in return. Cas stared at the hunter, panting as he struggled to control his body's reactions. "Dean?"

"Do you want this, Cas?" Staring down at the angel, at those too-bright eyes and parted lips, Dean recognized that flash of desire filling him, but he would never do anything without his partner's consent. After so many years of passionate fights, unexpressed emotions, and death, Dean was finally ready to break down this last wall between them.

"Father, yes," Cas gasped, reaching up to rest his right hand on Dean's shoulder where his handprint had once burned the skin, the left wrapping around the hunter's other arm. "But not with my wings this time; it's too fast, too much, and I don't think I can handle it again."

"Okay, honeybee," Dean whispered, leaning down to capture Cas's lips briefly. "Slower this time, I promise."

"Kiss me again," the angel demanded, raising his head and staring at the hunter's lips. Dean freed his hand from Cas's feathers, cupping his cheek in one hand as he leaned down and let himself be pulled into another kiss. It was deeper and more insistent than the first, Cas eagerly parting his lips so Dean's tongue could delve into his mouth.

He remembered back to Cas kissing Meg and that flash of jealousy that he had quickly buried, something he never thought about again after the demon died. He had refused to acknowledge his feelings back then, but after spending a year in purgatory trying to find his angel and get them both out, it seemed ridiculous to deny them now. Besides, Cas was incredibly responsive, struggling to pull Dean as close as possible as he tugged at the hunter's shirt with his free hand.

Cas moaned into the kiss, the noise burning straight to Dean's groin as he struggled to take his shirts off without breaking away from the angel's lips. He had never kissed a man before, and he let himself take a moment to enjoy the new sensation and the stubble rubbing against his cheek. He eventually pulled back, moving to Cas's neck and biting gently, testing the angel's reaction before moving further down. Cas moaned at the bite, fingers digging into Dean's bare shoulder in response as the hunter made a trail of marks across his partner's chest.

Cas froze as Dean's hands settled on his hips just above his pants, fingers playing with his waistband before brushing teasingly across his growing erection. Cas's wings twitched as he struggled not to push into that hand, but his eyes were glowing again as Dean repeated the action. "What do you want?"

"More," Cas whispered, wriggling under Dean as he simultaneously tried to move closer to the hand hovering over him and away from the one tangled in his feathers.

Dean chuckled, burying his fingers deeper in Cas's feathers and watching as the arched into his hand and whined. "As you wish."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably guessed, those are my three birds, including the names, name meanings, and general attitude (the real Tempest is a lot pricklier). Skittle is 13, Tempest is 4, and Dax is almost 3.


	3. Apple Pie

Chapter 3: Apple Pie

* * *

Dean took his time removing the last of their clothing, running his fingers over every inch of his angel's exposed skin. He could tell that Cas was losing control, hands shaking as he tried to pull the hunter closer, so he avoided touching his wings and pushing him too far too fast. As soon as he felt that the inexperienced man was somewhat calmer, Dean leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the tip of the angel's erection.

Cas bucked up into him, whining as Dean took him in his mouth, managing to swallow him most of the way down before he hit his gag reflex. He was going to have to work on that, the hunter mused to himself. Cas didn't seem to mind at all, if the twitching of his wings and bucking of his hips were any indication. Dean hadn't given a blowjob in a long time, and he had rarely enjoyed the action in the past, but he had never wanted to suck someone off so much in his life. He could already taste the angel's precum, so he backed off and raised his eyes to meet Cas's brilliant blue.

"What do you want, Cas? Do you want to come like this, or do you want something else?" Normally Dean wouldn't stop to talk; he had been having sex for far too long not to understand in general what his partners wanted, but Cas was practically a virgin. Not counting April and the porn that he had watched over years of association with the hunters, Cas had very little practical experience, and Dean wouldn't do anything to take advantage of the raven-haired man.

"Can you be inside me?" Cas's voice was barely a whisper, and the shy way he averted his eyes hinted that he had seen it in a porno but had never thought he could try anything like that.

"Sure, Cas, anything you want. Let me grab some lube."

The angel grabbed his arm as he moved to leave the bed, both of them realizing at the same moment that they weren't in Dean's room and Cas didn't have any supplies. "I don't need it anyway," Cas whispered. "You'll, uh . . . you'll fit. And I won't last if you do that finger thing I saw those men do in the instructional videos."

Dean was torn between his instinctive urge to argue that pornos were not _instructional videos_ and the acceptance that they probably were for an angel who had been a virgin for billions of years. He decided to ignore it completely, stroking his own erection a couple of times as he met Cas's eyes. "Alright, but I'm not going in dry. Come here."

Cas leaned forward eagerly, already guessing what Dean was asking for. He bent himself in half and wrapped his lips around his partner's leaking cock, and the hunter groaned as the sudden and intense demonstration of his lover's unbelievable flexibility. Then he lost himself in a blowjob that really, really shouldn't be that good.

"Damn, Cas," Dean breathed, fingers threading through that messy, raven hair he loved so much. "Off, honeybee; I'm not going to last."

Cas grinned as he leaned back and reclined on the bed, fluffing his wings in what was clearly the angelic equivalent of "come and get me". Dean chuckled and leaned forward, slipping his arms under Cas's legs and folding them to his chest, confident that the angel could bend as far as he wanted him to. He lined himself up, confident emerald eyes meeting desperate sapphire as he slowly slipped inside, refusing to let Cas look away.

"Dean," Cas gasped, his voice far from that deep, confident tone he had used when the two first met. Now he was falling apart, clinging to the hunter in a desperate attempt not to lose himself in the pleasure.

"I've got you, Cas," Dean whispered, keeping his pace slow as he ran his hands over the angel's hairless chest, pinching his nipples and watching as he started to lose control. He felt Cas start to thrust back against him, so he increased his pace, claiming his angel's lips in a bruising kiss.

Cas whined, trying to flap his trapped wings as he reached for his weeping erection. Dean caught his arm and leaned back, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of Cas's wrist. "Don't," he whispered, the word half-warning, half-promise. "Hold on, Cas, and I'll make it worth your while. Do you think you can do that?"

Cas nodded sharply; angels were created to obey, and it had been a long, long time since he had an order worth following. Dean increased his pace, hands roaming over Cas's chest and scraping across hardened, oversensitive nipples, the angel bucking up to meet him as he grabbed fistfuls of the blanket under them and struggled to obey. "Dean," he keened, reaching up to twist his fingers in the hunter's hair, unsure what he was asking for.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Dean groaned into his shoulder as Cas rolled his hips, finally getting the hang of the rhythm the hunter was setting. "How long have you waited for this, Cas?"

"You remember that day in the barn when you stabbed me with the demon knife?"

Dean actually froze at that, emerald eyes widening in shock. "Uh, yeah, of course I remember that. Cas, you're not serious."

The angel smiled and reached back to grab Dean's ass, urging him to keep going. "You, uh . . . you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I saw your soul before, but when it glowed out through your eyes, whispered just under your skin, I was blown away. It took me a long time to accept what I was feeling, but I remember thinking that I understood why angels would fall if there was someone like you waiting on Earth."

"Damn, Cas," Dean breathed, shutting his eyes for a moment at the intensity of his lover's gaze. "I've definitely been wondering what you hid under that rumpled suit and trench coat since I first laid eyes on you. Gotta say, pretty impressed." Cas blushed at the compliment, probably the first time he had lost control of his vessel in that way, groaning as Dean leaned down to nip at his collarbone before returning to his previous punishing pace.

Cas arched up to meet him, keening as he felt heat coiling in his gut, digging his fingers into Dean's thighs in response. "Dean!"

"I know, I'm close, too," the hunter panted, hands sliding up Cas's sides as his eyes met the angel's. He saw the instant that Cas realized what he was going to do, but the raven-haired man was too far gone to protest. Cas only managed a desperate whine as Deal shuddered and reached up to bury his fingers in the angel's wings. "Come for me, honeybee."

Cas was already lost, screaming as he spurted all over his stomach, arching his back in an effort to escape the hands wrapped around the base of his wings. With his eyes closed, all he could see was Dean's unbelievably brilliant soul sparkling above him, his grace reaching out to touch that light. For the first time since he met the hunter, Cas completely lost control, his grace flaring and probably blowing every light in the bunker. And, as he felt Dean join him in ecstasy, he honestly couldn't find it in himself to care.

* * *

Sam frowned at the book on ancient artifacts he had found, making note of which ones he had seen in the inventory list and which ones they might want to consider tracking down. He was reading about a particularly interesting necklace that was thought to be in Israel somewhere when every lightbulb in the bunker shattered, sparks falling to the floor as a high-pitched keen sounded through the halls before fading. Dax screeched once in concern and then quieted down in his cage.

Sam was on his feet with his gun drawn an instant later, scrabbling for the angel blade he kept in his room as the red emergency lights flashed on. He headed out to systematically search the rooms of the bunker, clearing the library, kitchen, and main hall before heading into the archives and then back to the bedroom wing. The place was empty, no sign of the angel he feared had slipped in, so he holstered his gun and tucked his angel blade into the pocket of his jacket.

Sam decided that he might as well have Cas check for intruders before he returned to his reading, so he found the angel's room and reached for the door handle. He made sure he opened it quietly to avoid startling the angel's bird, eyes adjusting slowly to the red emergency lighting. Sam wasn't sure what he expected to see, but his brother lying naked in Cas's bed with a huge black feathered blanket stretched over both of them was not it.

Oh wait.

That wasn't a blanket.

Sam's hazel eyes widened in shock as they met his brother's tired green ones across the room. "Are those his wings?" He could see that Cas's chest was rising and falling very slowly, so he surmised that the angel was asleep. It was rare, but sometimes he was tired enough to practice this human custom. As long as he kept his voice low, Sam hoped not to wake him.

Dean nodded, running his fingers through the black feathers and eliciting a sleepy, involuntary moan from his partner. As Sam stared at the huge wings, he realized that the dark feathers were actually blue on the tips. Cas unconsciously cuddled closer to his hunter, Dean smiling as he helped him settle into his new position. "Is something wrong, Sammy?" There was a hint of the normal protective warrior tone in Dean's soft voice, but also an undercurrent of exhaustion that hinted that he would rather not have to deal with any apocalypses right now. Seeing as it had only been a couple of hours since Dean woke up on the couch under Cas's trench coat, Sam could only imagine how intense their lovemaking session had been.

Well, he would rather not imagine it, but he had been hoping and praying for something like this for so long that he couldn't even be traumatized from the scene that he had barged in on. "No, but all of the lights in the bunker just blew and I, uh, thought an angel was coming." His eyes widened in startled recognition as he realized how inappropriate the wording was in light of what had clearly transpired on Cas's bed, Dean chuckling as a mischievous light brightened his own.

"One did. A lot. I think that the last one was too intense for him to control, however. He really likes it when I touch his wings."

"God, Dean, too much information! I am happy for you, man, so happy, but that is more than I need to know. If Cas didn't have his wings out, I'm sure I'd be seeing more than I ever wanted to see, as well."

"You're happy for us? You're okay with this?" There was a hesitation in Dean's voice that Sam had only ever heard when he was forced to talk about his feelings, and he was worried that his brother truly thought that he would not approve.

"Yeah, Dean, of course I'm happy. You have been dancing around Cas for years, and the poor guy has loved you more than he knew how to say. Whatever convinced you to let him see how you truly feel, I'm glad for it."

"Thanks, Sammy. That means a lot."

Sam raised one hand in a warning, his eyes darkening seriously. "But he's my brother, too, so if you treat him badly I will kick your ass."

Dean smiled and nodded, turning his face to the side to breath in the scent of Cas's hair. "I know you will, and I appreciate that, too. I never want him to think that he isn't one of us, that he doesn't belong here."

Sam nodded and turned to leave, spinning to stare at the two bird cages as the grey parrot let out a long, high-pitched trill. "What the hell?"

Dean cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. "I think he is mimicking Cas. You know, the almost-Voice keen he makes when he—"

"Nope, that's enough," Sam cut him off, pulling the door closed as he left. "I cannot believe your bird learned to make Cas's sex noises."

"And don't worry about the lights," Dean called after him just before the door clicked. "Cas will fix them when he wakes up."

"I'll do what when I wake up?" The sleepy whisper vibrated against Dean's throat, Cas's fingers digging into his side as he tried to pull himself closer.

"You kinda blew all the lights in the bunker," Dean replied, running his fingers through Cas's dark hair. He remembered when they first met, how messy and untamed it had been. Apparently Jimmy had been running his fingers through his own hair and pulling at his tie while talking to Cas, and the angel hadn't bothered to groom his vessel afterward. Now that the body was his alone, he had allowed the brothers to teach him how to take care of it. Dean did miss that messy, sex hair look, however. "This room may be soundproof, but it's not Voice-proof. We should look into warding for next time."

Cas pushed himself up at that, the exhaustion clearing from his crystal blue eyes. "You want . . . you want a next time? I thought . . ." His brows furrowed, and he looked down at Dean's chest. "I thought this was just a spontaneous, one night stand situation."

Dean felt a flicker of fear fill his frame, struggling to control his breathing and heartrate as he moved into a sitting position and pulled the angel up to face him. Cas's wings slumped, a clear indicator that he was upset at the idea, but he would never push the hunter into something he was not ready for. "Cas, do you really want it to be a one-time thing? You seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit."

"I did enjoy myself," Cas assured the hunter, placing his hand over Dean's heart and the anti-possession symbol inked there, tracing the lines and noticing some fading and other slight imperfections that could eventually break the sigil. It was time for Dean to get his tattoo touched up. "It was more than I have ever hoped for from you. But I don't want you to feel obligated to be with me; I know that you prefer the company of females and a relationship with me would 'cramp your style'." Yeah, he was doing the air quotes. Dean gently grabbed his hands and ducked his head until the angel's eyes met his.

"We've talked about the air quotes, Cas." He smiled, wanting Cas to understand that he was teasing, and the angel slowly smiled back. "And, yeah I did enjoy doing all of that when I was a bachelor. Bachelors go out and sleep around with a different woman in every town, party, get too drunk to remember what they did, and lie about all of it to their brothers. But none of that has really held any appeal for me in a very long time, and I can't even remember the last girl I went home with. I would rather have you, just you, for the rest of my life."

Cas smiled at him, an open, happy smile that the hunter had not seen since the angel was crazy, and jumped into his arms. Dean chuckled as the angel pulled him in for a kiss, huge black wings opening to their fullest possible size in the enclosed space, blocking out what little light there was and earning a grumpy _meehhhhh_ noise from one of the parrots. "I love you, Dean," Cas whispered, his nose buried in his lover's dark blonde hair.

"I know," the hunter whispered back, tightening his hold on the angel and clearing his throat. "Cas, I'm not the kind of person who talks about feelings, you know that. But I need you and I can't imagine having to live a day without you. You're mine; do you understand?"

Cas nodded and kissed Dean's neck. "I always understand you, Dean. In my entire existence, in the billions of years since the beginning of creation, I have only ever made one choice. I chose you, over Heaven, over my brothers, and over God. Do you understand?"

Dean chuckled at Cas throwing his question back at him. "Yeah, I do. I chose you, too, Cas, years ago. I'm just sorry it took me so long to tell you."

"Well, I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for."

* * *

Sam headed into the kitchen, intent on finding a snack to tide him over until the two love birds emerged from Cas's room and they could go out for a real lunch. Dean hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, so he had to come out soon. He stopped dead in his tracks at the apple pie sitting in the middle of their dining room table, completely certain that they did not currently have a pie anywhere in the bunker. They rarely survived a night with Dean around. "What the?"

"I can make a different one if you prefer," a silky voice offered from behind the hunter, amused golden eyes flicking dismissively to the angel blade suddenly pointing at his chest. "Samshine, you know that an angel blade can't kill me." He reached out with one finger and pushed the long dagger away, smiling as Sam slowly relaxed.

"Yeah, see, I knew that there was an angel invading the bunker."

Gabriel raised his hand in protest. "I didn't blow the lights. That's a showman's trick, and I am far beyond such small displays of power." He tilted his head and blinked, restoring all of the bulbs to their fully-functioning state before raising both hands in a question. "If you change all of your incandescent bulbs out for LEDs, angel grace couldn't destroy them. We don't generally affect electronics." He paused for a moment, raising one hand questioningly. "If it wasn't me, what destroyed your lights?"

Sam grinned and slipped his arm around Gabriel's shoulder, leading the archangel to the table and offering him a beer, taking one for himself before he answered. "That would be your brother losing control of his Voice."

"Cassie? He's always been so reserved."

"Apparently his wings are incredibly sensitive."

Gabriel's eyes widened in shock, the blonde staring up at the hunter and shaking his head. "You saw his wings?" There was a deep note of betrayal, a sharp pain in his voice that Sam couldn't understand, but he wanted nothing more than to soothe the archangel.

"Not on purpose. I saw him and Dean, uh, basking in the afterglow a couple minutes ago, and Cas's wings were covering them. He was asleep, and I'm pretty sure they were intended for Dean alone."

Gabriel relaxed, smirking at the hunter. "Of course they were. It's been a long time since he showed them to another angel, and even longer since I last saw them. If I remember correctly, Cassie has raven-black feathers that fade to dark blue at the tips."

"Yeah, he does." Sam stared at the archangel, a calculating look in his hazel eyes. Gabriel watched the color change from green-tinted to gold-tinted, always amazed at the varying hazel hues of Sam's eyes. "Gabe, why were you upset that I had seen Cas's wings?"

The shorter blonde glanced down at the table, the faintest blush on his cheeks. "It's a pretty intimate thing, to show your wings to a human," he murmured. "I've never done it, and I would wager that this was Cassie's first time. If he didn't know how sensitive they are, he may have initiated something with your brother without realizing it."

Sam shook his head. "No matter who initiated it, they looked really happy. Dean's loved Cas for a long time, and he pretty much told me that he sees a future with your brother."

"Good. Castiel deserves to be happy."

Sam tilted his head and reached out to cup Gabriel's cheek in his hand. They had a very long, complicated friendship, most of which happened while Dean and Cas were out or otherwise occupied, and some of which included the time that Gabe had trapped Sam and Dean in a series of TV shows. Sometime after Gabriel faked his death, he had returned to the hunter and forged a fast friendship, sometimes dancing dangerously close to the kind of intimacy Sam had just seen in the seraph's room. Now, as he stared into those fathomless, ancient golden eyes, he wondered how serious Gabriel had been with his years of sexual innuendos.

"Would it be inappropriate for me to ask to see your wings?"

Gabriel's eyes met Sam's, a touch of his grace glowing behind the whiskey gold. The archangel had once wondered how an angel could look out across the entire Earth and see so many billions of souls, and just _pick_ one, and yet, Castiel had done just that. When the mission to save Dean from Hell had been announced, that untried general had managed to get himself included in the operation and pulled that soul out of the Pit. Then, against all of his orders, Cas had rebuilt Dean on his own, refusing all offers of help from Heaven, unwilling to let any other angel else claim that scarred, bright soul. Years later, Gabriel had asked his brother what made him choose Dean, but Cas just said "it felt right." That was his soul, and he would never let another angel near it. It had taken Dean almost a decade to accept that claim, but clearly he did now.

Staring into Sam's eyes, seeing the light from his powerful spirit filling the room, Gabriel no longer wondered how Cas could pick one. As the intended vessels of archangels, Dean and Sam had souls nearly as large and luminous as low-ranking angels, and despite his best efforts Gabriel had always been drawn toward them. He had flirted with the taller hunter for years, dancing around taking that final plunge, but Sam was asking him to, now. Gabriel was still worried about being burned, about falling in love with this human, but he had never seen another soul in his thousands of epochs of living on Earth that attracted him so. This might be _his_ soul, and he was willing to take a chance.

Those thoughts passed through his mind in an instant, so there was no hesitation on his part as he pushed away from the table, slipping his jacket and shirt off and turning his back toward the hunter. Sam watched in silence as Gabriel pulled his shoulders forward and rolled them back, his wings appearing as he finished the motion. He only manifested his first and largest set of wings, golden feathers shining brilliantly in the kitchen lights as he stretched them out in what would be a show of sexual interest if the hunter understood angelic body language. Gabriel fluffed his feathers and looked over his shoulder, smiling at the enthralled look on Sam's face. "What do you think?"

"They're beautiful, Gabriel," Sam breathed, reaching out and holding his hand inches from the raised feathers. "Can I touch them?"

"Dad, yes," Gabriel whispered, gasping as the hunter's long fingers slipped between his feathers to brush the skin underneath. He couldn't help moaning at the sudden sensation, understanding why his brother had finally decided to show his wings to Dean. It felt _amazing_. He felt Sam's hands reach around his wings to ghost across the smaller, softer feathers on the undersides, and he threw his head back, overwhelmed by the shock of ecstasy that pulsed through his body with each touch. The archangel thought he had experienced human pleasure before, but none of his sexual escapades could compare to what Sam was doing _just by touching his wings_. He suddenly wanted much, much more.

Gabriel leaned back into Sam's chest, finding that the hunter was the perfect height for their eyes to meet with his head thrown back. He jerked his hips forward involuntarily, clenching the edge of the table as he fought to regain the power of speech. "I really need you to be naked right now, Sam." No nicknames, no teasing, no jokes. Gabriel was deadly serious, and archangels were used to being obeyed.

Sam grinned evilly, raising one hand to wrap his fingers lightly around Gabe's exposed neck, the other snaking around his waist and pulling him tightly against the hunter's chest. The tall man leaned forward, trapping Gabe against the table and grinding into him, both of them groaning at the contact. "Is that what you need?"

The archangel whimpered, realizing that he was no longer in control of this situation, and not caring for the first time in his life. No one had ever been more powerful than him, able to control and command him, but this oversized hunter was perfectly willing to take that position. Gabriel had not realized until that moment how much he wanted to be dominated, and he knew that it was too late to back out now. Whether he had intended to or not, he had chosen this man.

"I want you, Sam. I choose you, the same way Cas chose Dean when he pulled him out of Hell. If you're willing to accept that claim, then please _give me what I need_." Gabriel never begged, he rarely asked, but he would do anything to have Sam touch him.

The hunter's smile gentled as he leaned down and claimed Gabriel's lips in a kiss, hard and demanding and dominating. The archangel folded one wing tightly and spun around in the hunter's embrace, reaching up to wrap his arms around Sam's neck. He broke free just long enough for the hunter to pull his shirt off, moaning as one hand returned to its exploration of his wing. Gabriel had forgotten how big Sam was, not just his physical size but his aura, and he felt safe, protected, and _wanted_ for the first time since he stormed out of Heaven. The archangel would do anything to stay in Sam's arms forever.

A loud exclamation from the doorway shocked them both, the archangel too focused on his hunter to have noticed the bright flare of grace approaching from the main bunker. Gabriel slipped out of Sam's arms and turned to face his younger brother, golden wings spread wide and held high in a challenge. Cas stood taller and opened his own, smaller wings, grace glowing in his eyes as he pushed Dean behind him. "Cas, what the hell are you doing? Is that _Gabriel_?"

The seraph didn't answer his lover, raising his dark wings higher as he flared his grace, taking a single step toward the intruder. Gabriel knew that his brother should be no match for him, but he was proud of Cas for trying, for being so determined to protect the brothers that he would risk his life in a fight with an archangel. From what Gabriel had heard, he should be at least a little worried since Cas had defeated or destroyed all three of his equally-powerful brothers. Calling on his own grace, Gabriel flared his wings, taking a step forward in a clear order to _back down_. Castiel, however, had long since stopped following orders from other angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a 3-chapter fic, but I ended up having to split this one in half. Next chapter is almost exclusively Sabriel.


	4. Chosen

Chapter 4: Chosen

* * *

The confrontation between the two angels was over before it truly began. Sam stepped forward, forcing Gabe to drop his wings as he held one hand defensively out toward the seraph. "Cas, I choose him. Okay? _I need him_." Later, Sam would tell Gabriel that he hadn't even stopped to consider that he was standing between and archangel and a seraph, two beings who could end him in a second if they were truly determined to fight. He had known that both would back off at his request.

Castiel dropped his wings, slowly folding them against his bare back as he tilted his head. "Sam, do you understand what you are saying? Angels don't choose lightly, and there has never been a single case of an archangel choosing at all."

Sam reached behind himself and pulled Gabriel forward, the archangel folding his wings as he stared at his brother. "I know it may sound really sudden, but he chose me. He showed me his wings and he told me that he feels for me what you feel for Dean."

Cas stepped forward, holding his palm out and waiting for Gabriel to step close enough that he could touch his forehead. The archangel relaxed and opened his mind, letting his brother look around and examine his feelings for a moment before he pulled away. He had not realized how protective Cas was of these boys until he flared his wings at an archangel, so he was willing to allow the intrusion. "Brother, do you truly choose him? You have told me before that you could not understand what would allow an angel to pick a single soul to guard, protect, and love."

"It just needs to be the right soul," Gabriel returned, offering Cas's answer back to him.

The seraph nodded and smiled, reaching out to embrace his older brother, possibly the only one of his remaining siblings who liked him. "Welcome home, Gabriel."

"Thank you."

"Is anyone going to explain this to me?"

Cas looked over at his lover, gesturing for him to enter the kitchen now that the showdown was over. "Gabriel was asking my permission to court your brother. Since I am his guardian angel by default, it was only right that I determine if his motives were acceptably pure."

Dean stared at his brother with his patented _what-the-fuck_ face. "Where did this come from? How is Gabriel even alive?" He paused, eyes flicking to the golden wings still on display, the distinct lack of shirts on both men, and the faint scorch marks on the edge of the central kitchen island where Gabriel's hands had been resting moments earlier. "Sammy, were you just about to bang an archangel on the table where I fix my breakfast?"

The taller hunter shrugged, trying to twist his features into something approaching innocence. "Um, no?" Dean frowned, and Sam started inching toward the door, pulling the smaller blonde with him. "Gabe brought you a pie. I'm sure you're hungry, so feel free to dig in."

Dean could not resist taking the bait. His eyes flew to the table and the offering waiting there for him, and all of his brother's transgressions were forgiven. He never even noticed when the pair vanished, quickly finding a plate and cutlery so he could free himself a slice of that gorgeous creation. Cas watched him with an amused half-smile on his face, knowing that his hunter could never resist a pie.

Two slices later, Dean's memory seemed to catch up to him, and he looked up at the angel perched in the chair next to his. "I thought Gabriel was dead."

"He apparently faked his death to a degree that Lucifer was satisfied with his demise," Cas replied, thinking back through the whirlwind of memories he had seen in his brother's mind. "He went into hiding after that fight, not wanting to have the oppressive weight of the world on his shoulders ever again. His words, not mine. Gabriel spent some time in a place called Monte Carlo with a variety of porn stars for a short while before learning that the gods he was staying with had less than honorable intentions. He went into hiding again until, one night, he heard Sam praying to him, and he couldn't help but return. I believe this was just after we killed Dick and ended up in Purgatory. He's been visiting your brother off and on ever since, and it looks like he has fallen in love."

Dean was quiet for a long time, staring into space as he picked at his pie. If he wanted to, Cas could listen in on his lover's thoughts, but it seemed more like an invasion of privacy than it used to. Finally, the hunter took a deep, steadying breath and spoke. "I guess it's better than him sleeping with demons. I can't say that Gabriel is my favorite person, especially not after he turned Sam into my car, but he is the only one of your siblings who has ever treated us fairly, or liked us at all. And he did save us from Lucifer in that hotel, even if he faked his own death to avoid any further responsibilities during the Apocalypse."

"He's also the only archangel who has never really wanted you dead," Cas offered hopefully. "Ignoring the time he let you die every Tuesday for approximately four months, but that was more about teaching Sam a valuable lesson than hurting you."

"Yes, ignoring that," Dean scoffed, having read the details of that strange situation in one of Chuck's books years ago. "He also told us how to trap Lucifer, something only an archangel would have known. Without his information, we could never have put Satan back in his Cage." Dean nodded to himself, finishing the last bit of his third slice of pie. "Okay, I can accept him into the family, I guess. Just, do me a favor and keep an eye on him. I don't want a repeat of TV Land if I can help it."

* * *

 

Gabriel waited until they stepped out of the kitchen before teleporting the pair of them to Sam's bedroom. He stopped dead at the sight of the caique in his cage, the bird watching the intruder with one red eye but otherwise quiescent. "When did you get a pet, kiddo?"

"Uh, today. Cas kinda bought him for me." Sam's arms snaked around Gabriel's waist from behind, chest pressed tight against his folded wings. "I'll introduce you later. Now, where were we before our brothers so rudely interrupted?"

Gabriel gasped as Sam slammed him up against a wall, his wings opening involuntarily as Sam's knees trapped his legs and the hunter ground his erection into him. "Sam," Gabriel gasped, fists planted against the wall as the hunter's teeth sunk into his neck hard enough to bruise. He felt his grace rise to heal it, and he tried to push it away but he knew the instant that the hunter saw the bite vanish.

"Gabe, do angel cuffs work on an archangel?"

The blonde pushed away from the wall and spun around, golden eyes searching his soon-to-be-lover's face as he slowly nodded. Sam reached over to the bag on his table and pulled a set of runed black cuffs out, a kind of expectant calm filling the room. "They won't really hold me while at full power if I truly want to escape, but they will dampen my powers and strength considerably."

Sam stood there for what felt like an eternity, his breaths steady even as the light of his soul flared with barely-constrained passion and desire. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Gabriel breathed, holding out his arms and letting Sam close the cold metal around his wrists. He felt an instant change, the majority of his grace pushed down even as he held onto enough to keep his wings in the material plane. A seraph or angel would not be able to keep their wings visible at all while wearing the cuffs, but Gabriel knew that it would be enough to stop his insanely fast healing powers from ruining Sam's handiwork.

Sam grinned as Gabriel gingerly tested the cuffs, placing his hands on the archangel's hips and lifting him into the air. Startled, Gabriel opened his wings and wrapped his legs around Sam's waist, moaning at the feeling of the hunter's erection rubbing against his own. Sam's grip kept him still, Gabe hooking his cuffed hands behind the hunter's neck as he felt teeth sink into his neck once more.

Sam didn't waste any time after that, kissing and biting his way down the archangel's chest, leaving marks everywhere he could and reveling in the blonde's moans. He slipped his arms under Gabriel's thighs and lifted him higher, the startled archangel dropping his wings and leaning forward to avoid hitting the ceiling. Gabriel suddenly realized that they were both still wearing way too many layers, and he drew on the spark of grace he could reach to _poof_ their remaining clothing away. Sam chuckled against his belly, leaning down to nip the inside of Gabriel's thigh.

"Sam, you're teasing me," Gabriel whined, hands resting on Sam's shoulders as he thrust his hips forward. The position was awkward and he couldn't get any leverage, but he tried.

"Damn right I am," Sam breathed, blowing across the still-wet bite marks on the archangels' inner thigh. "You're at my mercy, _Trickster_ , and I'm going to make you pay for every sneaky, underhanded thing you have ever done to me. And I'll remind you that you put me on a game show where they slammed a ball into my nuts."

Gabriel shivered, finding the dark threat in Sam's voice somehow arousing. "Oh my Dad, Sam you have no idea what you do to me."

The hunter chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the tip of the erection bobbing in front of his face. "I have a pretty good idea."

Gabriel gasped and threw his head back, the hands on Sam's shoulders tightening, the chain between his cuffs tickling the back of the hunter's neck. "If you don't start touching me soon, I'm going to smite your arrogant ass."

"You're adorable when you're frustrated." Before Gabriel could answer, Sam leaned forward and kissed the tip of the archangel's erection before swallowing him down.

Gabriel almost screamed, dangerously close to losing control of himself, and it had been three or four billion years since that had happened. He raised his arms above his head, searching for something to hold onto as Sam started blowing him in earnest. His fingers made contact with the ceiling and he dug in, legs wrapping around the unfairly tall hunter's shoulders. "Sam, I'm . . . I can't hold on. I want . . ."

"What do you want, Gabe?" Sam's voice was gentle, barely a breath against the archangel's thigh, but the words demanded an answer.

"I want to ride you, Sam," he groaned, golden eyes meeting bright hazel. "It's been thousands of years since . . ."

Sam smiled, using one hand to hold Gabriel up as the other one ran through the smaller man's golden hair. "Sometimes I forget how old you are, but then I look into your eyes . . . it's like I can see the birth of the universe."

It might almost be true, Gabriel mused with the part of his mind that hadn't been overwhelmed by the ridiculously tall hunter. He knew that his grace swirled there, just below the surface, sparking brightly with his arousal, though the description was admittedly corny. For the first time in epochs, he felt like an archangel again; he watched the colors of Sam's soul flash behind those bright hazel eyes, and his own grace rose to match that fervor. He wanted this human, needed to claim him, and he knew that he was lost.

"Do you want the bed or the wall?" Sam could see Gabe's eyes go distant, that molten gold pale as he lost focus despite the fact that he was still meeting the hunter's gaze.

"Bed," Gabriel managed, leaning down to wrap his arms around Sam's neck. The human moved away from the wall, both arms catching the angel as he backed up to his bed and sat down on the edge. Gabe leaned into claim another kiss, unable to resist the urge, as he settled into Sam's lap. As soon as their erections touched, Gabriel gasped and arched his back, cursing himself for his loss of control but no longer caring. "Sam, please!"

"Okay, Gabe, I will. I don't, uh, I don't think I have any lube."

The archangel chuckled. "I don't need anything like that. I'm an angel; I can just adjust my vessel to accommodate you." He reached down and gave the hunter's impressive erection a long, slow stroke, covering it in something he conjured that felt like oil. "No matter how much bigger you are than I imagined." He pulled his hand away and lifted his hips, lining Sam's now-slick cock up with his entrance.

"Okay, but next time we're doing it the human way," Sam grunted, snapping his hips up and sheathing himself completely in the blonde archangel. He heard Gabriel swallow his reaction, eyes widening as he repeated the action, long fingers digging into the blonde's hips. When he didn't get an audible reply for a second time, Sam set his jaw and set a punishing pace, pounding into the archangel as the blonde ground back down into him. Huge golden wings arched over them, feathers brushing across Sam's skin and _burning_ him with every touch. Add to that the blonde clenching around him with every thrust, and it was easily the best sex Sam had ever had.

However, his normally-garrulous partner was suspiciously silent. Determined to see if he could make an archangel scream, Sam grabbed Gabe's arms and pulled him closer, gold eyes flying open to meet his in shock. The new position changed the angle of his thrust, and the next one clearly hit Gabriel's prostate if his fingers digging into Sam's biceps were any indication. He knew that the archangel was still holding back—he had to, the man immeasurably stronger than a human, even with those cuffs on—but it was satisfying to see him lose some small amount of his self-control.

The chain between the cuffs pressed almost painfully just below Sam's collarbone, but he held Gabe closer, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. The blonde whined into his mouth, almost keening at the next hard thrust, and the lights in Sam's room flickered. The hunter never noticed, focusing on the archangel's cock leaking precum on his stomach, but Gabriel looked up in shock. Even with the cuffs, his grace was expanding, flaring with every burst of pleasure that slammed through his body, and he was going to do a lot more than shatter a few lightbulbs when he came. The cuffs would barely dampen the explosion, and the bunker would never survive.

He felt the hunter's thrusts grow frantic, the lust pulsing through his soul flaring brightly and pulling Gabe along for the ride. Sam came with a strangled howl, the most noise he had made since burying himself in the archangel, and his blonde lover felt the coil of heat low in his belly warning of his own impending release, aided by the sudden hand Sam buried in the feathers of his left wing.

Gabriel was old, older than all but five beings in all of Creation. He had the self-control to pull himself back from the edge, to stop himself, to cool his lust, but he wanted to give in, to share this _ecstasy_ with Sam. In the future they would find a more effective way of binding his grace, but just this once he wanted to explode. Sam's free hand wrapped around his trapped erection and gave two quick strokes, and Gabe was _done._ He flapped his wings an instant before he came, screaming to the heavens as his release covered Sam's heaving chest and his golden wings stretched open to protect them both from the sun beating down overhead.

It actually took Sam quite a few minutes to come down from his high, hazel eyes finding Gabe's satisfied gold before he took in their surroundings. The hunter sat up, wrapping his arms around the archangel to keep him in place as he looked around in shock. They were still on Sam's bed, but it was sitting in the middle of what had once been a forest, the trees for miles around blasted flat against the ground. They were in a shallow crater, the ground around them torn up and the grass burned to cinders, Gabe's wings falling to wrap protectively around the taller hunter.

"Uh, Gabe?"

"Sorry, Samoose. I thought you might want the bunker intact when we were finished."

"Your grace did _this?_ Damn . . ."

Gabriel shrugged, glancing around as he slid his arms around Sam's waist. The hunter seemed to notice the lack of angel cuffs at that moment, but he didn't comment. "I've never . . . this vessel that Loki made for me, it's had orgasms before. But me, the archangel or 'grace' part of me, has never participated. Until today. Your soul called to me, Sam, and I lost control. I've never lost control before."

Sam's face split in a self-satisfied smile, leaning down to kiss Gabriel again. "So is this what an angel _choosing_ looks like? I'm pretty impressed."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and slipped out of Sam's lap, taking a few steps away from the bed before fluffing his feathers and flapping his wings a few times. He folded them neatly back into place before rolling his shoulders and turning back to Sam. "What?"

"You," Sam chuckled, still sitting in the middle of the bed with one leg drawn up to his chest, completely unconcerned with his nudity or the streaks of white decorating his belly. "You broke those angel cuffs and teleported us . . . here in the middle of an angelical grace-enhanced orgasm. And you called Cas's blowing the lights a 'showman's trick'."

Gabriel shrugged. "I also told you that I was above such _small_ displays of power. Go big or go home, right Samshine?"

"Yeah, you did that. Did you, uh, bring any clothes with us?" Gabriel rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, cleaning them both and dressing them in the same instant as his wings vanished. Sam glanced down at his worn jeans, red flannel shirt, and jacket, finding Gabriel similarly attired sans flannel, their leather jackets almost matching. "I guess this is one of the perks of having an archangel boyfriend, huh?"

Gabriel froze at the word, golden eyes wide as he caught Sam's gaze. "Boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Is that alright? This whole choosing thing . . . it's a little overwhelming for me. I was hoping we could just try dating?"

Gabriel let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, nodding emphatically as Sam stepped forward and pulled him into his arms. He nodded against Sam's chest, reveling in the feeling of being _wanted_ and _protected_ , despite his immortality and basic invulnerability that should render such needs immaterial. "Dating," Gabe murmured. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Can you get us back to the bunker?"

"Not exactly. The warding is pretty well done, especially since I showed you the better angel warding sigils that can keep even an archangel from casually flying in. Even I can't get through without a soul to focus on. Dean and I aren't really that close, if you hadn't noticed, so with you out here I can't get in."

Sam tilted his head thoughtfully. "I don't have a key on me, either. Can you get us to the door? I'm sure if we knock, Dean will let us in."

"Yeah I can. I'm not bringing the bed, though; we're getting you a more comfortable one as soon as we get back."

"Dude, you don't even sleep."

"No, but you do and I don't want you to wake up refreshed every morning. It's going to save me a lot of time healing your aches and pains."

"You're oddly sweet."

Gabriel grinned and _flapped_ , teleporting them to the bunker door, freeing himself from Sam's arms as the hunter raised his hand and knocked.

* * *

Dean's head jerked up as the lights flickered again, instantly pulling the gun out of the back of his jeans as he headed out of the kitchen. Cas was on his heels, cautiously following the hunter to Sam's bedroom.

"Sammy?"

When he didn't receive an answer, Dean reached out to open the door, eyes wide at the sudden lack of a bed and the twisted black metal of angel cuffs on the floor where it used to be. Cas leaned down and lifted the remains of the cuffs, feeling the hint of Gabriel's grace still lingering on the metal. "It looks like Gabriel may have used these to dampen his powers, but clearly it didn't work."

"Okay," Dean replied slowly, eyes flying to the ceiling where two hand-shaped scorch marks were clearly visible near the wall. "Where are they?"

Cas closed his eyes and listened through angel radio for his brother's thoughts, sorting through a number of conversations about a strange explosion of power before he found him. "It's hard to pinpoint him, since Gabriel is adept at avoiding angelic surveillance, but I believe that they are in the middle of a forest in Tennessee somewhere. From the direction of his thoughts, I believe that my brother intends to return Sam shortly."

"Is Gabe going to fly off with Sam like this every time . . ." Dean trailed off, not willing to finish the sentence.

"Every time they have sex?" Cas, of course, had no such verbal filter, and he tended not to get embarrassed no matter the provocation. "I doubt it. Gabriel will learn to control himself, but the relationship with Sam is very new, and the bond between human soul and angelic grace can be overwhelming the first time."

Dean chuckled, having finally tucked his gun back into his pants. "Is that why you lost control like that? Blew every light in the bunker, apparently."

Cas glanced down at his feet, the angel's equivalent of a blush. "I will endeavor to control my reactions during sex in the future."

Dean reached out and caught Cas's chin in his hand, tilting the angel's head until he could see those azure eyes again. "Don't. I love seeing you come undone. We'll just have to ask Gabe if he knows some really good angel warding for our bedroom."

Dax, having fallen asleep in his cage, looked up at the hunter, yawned, and trilled before fluffing up and closing his eyes again. "Uh, Cas; is this angelic voice thing dangerous for the birds?"

"No, animals are not bothered by my true voice. It only affects humans, since you are the only ones who would ever be able to understand us." Cas knelt down and opened Dax's cage, reaching in to pet the sleepy Caique.

"Cas, about us . . . I've never really had a solid relationship except that year with Lisa. I don't want you to be disappointed if I'm not like the boyfriends in the shows that you watch."

The angel pushed himself back to his feet and watched the uncomfortable hunter stare at his hands and refuse to make eye contact. "Dean, I don't expect anything to change. Not out there. You're still a hunter, and I don't want our relationship to get in the way of that."

"You're a hunter, too, you know," Dean chided, knowing what the angel wasn't saying. "And, yeah, I agree with you in that regard. But, whenever we aren't working, what do you want?" Cas was silent for a long moment, slowly reaching out and taking Dean's hand in his. There was a question in that grip, one that Dean answered by pulling the angel in for a quick kiss. "Yeah, I can do that. Anything else?"

"Just . . . I just want to be allowed to show that I care for you."

Dean pushed down the twinge of fear that flashed through him at Cas's words. He knew what the angel meant, and it did scare him somewhat to consider public displays of affection with his lover. He was tired of holding back, though, and if Cas wanted to hold hands sometimes, or even more, Dean was not going to stand in the way of his boyfriend's happiness. After so many years of longing, they both deserved that.

"I would like that, Cas. What do you want to do until Sam and Gabe return?"

* * *

Sam hadn't really expected an answer to their knocking. He had been pretty sure that he was going to need to have Gabriel conjure him a cell phone to try to reach Dean, though his brother generally didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. When Dean opened the door a minutes later, Cas standing just behind him with his own wings hidden away again, Sam was honestly shocked.

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean stepped to the side as Sam and Gabriel entered the bunker. "We saw the lights flicker, then Cas felt a surge of power and we went to your room. Your bed was gone, you weren't there, and there were handprints scorched into your ceiling."

"Uh, Gabe wanted to get us out of here so he didn't blow up the bunker."

Cas nodded. "Of course, that makes sense. It also explains the melted angel cuffs we found in your bedroom."

Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, I'll have to figure out a better way to deal with that. I'm pretty sure I can't blow up forests every time I sleep with Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes and headed back down the stairs. "Yeah alright. I could use Gabe to help with the angel-proofing in my room, too, I guess."

"And get some LED bulbs, seriously," Gabriel added, glancing at his brother and catching the end of a self-satisfied smile at Dean's request. Castiel rarely smiled, was rarely happy, and Dean raised somewhat in the archangel's estimation for putting that look on his brother's face.

"So are you two dating or what?"

The four men reached the bottom of the stairs, Gabriel moving to Sam's side as the hunter's arm slipped around his shoulders. "Yeah, Dean, we are. What about you?"

Dean grinned at his brother and reached out to twine fingers with Cas's and pull him closer. The angel's face lit as he smiled in amazement, dropping his eyes to stare at their joined hands. "Of course we are."

"Great! I'm starving; anyone up for lunch?"


End file.
